


down this road

by foxwatson



Category: Bill & Ted (Movies)
Genre: Fic, M/M, Pining, Road Trips, and so much more i'll update tags as the fic goes along, because the boys are going on tour, morons to lovers, ted theodore logan's dad issues, that's right it's a
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:54:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26971708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxwatson/pseuds/foxwatson
Summary: It's time for Wyld Stallyns' first ever West Coast headline tour - which also just happens to be Ted's first road trip, and one of only a handful of times he's ever even left San Dimas. It's him and Bill, Liz and Jo, and the open road, and freedom.
Relationships: Ted "Theodore" Logan/Bill S. Preston Esq.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 49





	down this road

**Author's Note:**

> title credit to tom petty's runnin' down a dream. specifically, the full line is "there's something good waitin' down this road"
> 
> the road trip mix bill and ted are listening to is a full playlist which you can find [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4zh8cn0SJzNErqt6KYaGia?si=2p6Chag1Q_id1oFo-6Y-pg), feel free to listen to for Mood.

There’s something strangely soothing about the lines of a highway at night. Ted’s been watching asphalt stretch out in front of the windshield for hours now while he dozes in and out of wakefulness, just enough to glance over and check on Bill and make sure he’s still good to drive. Bill’s busy nodding along with the music, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel as the sound of one of their road trip mixes is still drifting, tinny, through the speakers - but they’ve got it turned down so it doesn’t wake up Liz and Jo where they’re sleeping in the back. 

The princesses had taken the first shift driving, so now it’s just him and Bill up here and the road ahead until they hit Oregon and switch back.

Ted’s been keyed up for weeks now about this whole trip, not just because it’s Wyld Stallyns’ first headlining tour, but also because it’s the first time he’s actually gone on a road trip. Nights spent curled up listening to Queen’s “Spread Your Wings” on his walkman and thinking about piling in a car with Bill and leaving San Dimas in the rearview every time his dad threatened to send him to Alaska were the closest he had ever come - just because there’d never really been money or time.

Even Logan family vacations had been most limited, because Ted’s dad had always said he was too busy at the station to really take time off. Ted can count on his hands the handful of times he’s been out of California since his mom left, and most of those were with Bill and Mr. Preston rather than his dad and Deacon. Bill’s dad usually let him pick someone to take on vacations and that person had always been Ted - meaning that Ted did get a most excellent trip to Disney World with Bill, but they still hadn’t driven, they’d flown.

He’s pretty sure that before this trip, he’s never been in a car for more than an hour or two, just drives to Disneyland or the beach.

Now, here they are, the road sprawled out in front of them, their first shows and all kinds of possibilities ahead. Ted feels his heart speed up again, the excitement still infectious as it spreads from his chest up to the flush on his cheeks. He stretches his legs out to put his feet up on the dash and grins over at Bill as he air guitars to the bridge on “Panama.”

Bill looks over at him and grins back, but there’s still a confused little furrow in his brow. “What is it, dude?”

“Just got excited again,” Ted tells him, bringing one leg down to nudge his knee against Bill’s, even though he has to slump down in his seat to do it.

“Dude you’ve been excited for like, the whole month. You crossed off every day on the calendar.”

Squirming around in his seat a little, Ted turns to face Bill and shrugs. “I know, I just-”

“We’ve never been on a road trip or a tour, I know, dude.” Bill’s tone is soft - but Ted can tell it’s not just because he doesn’t want to wake up the princesses. He takes one hand off the steering wheel and reaches into the space between the seats - and Ted reaches over, too, so they can wiggle their fingers together. “I get it, Ted.”

“I know,” Ted tells him. He shifts restlessly in his seat again and presses his face against the cool glass of the window, going back to watching as the white lines disappear beneath the wheels of the van. That’s one of the best things about Bill, he always gets it. “I’m just glad that we’re here. The driving experience is most tranquil, which is nice, but if I think about it - I’ve just never gotten to do anything like this.” That much, he’s admitted before. This side of the cassette runs out, though, and then the van is quiet except for the sounds of the engine and the road beneath them. There’s no real lights on the road, either, so when he glances over, Bill’s profile is only lit by the soft light coming off the dashboard. He bites his lip and shakes his head enough to let his bangs fall in his face. “I used to think about stuff like this. When dad would say he was gonna ship me off to Alaska. Just us - driving off. But now we get to do this anyways, for the band, because we finally made it, we made a whole album, it’s just - it’s a lot to think about, y’know, dude?”

Even glancing through his hair, Ted can watch Bill’s fingers spasm as they tighten on the steering wheel for a moment. “Yeah. I’m glad we’re here. I’m glad we don’t have to worry about that stuff anymore.”

Ted breaks into a grin again and nods. “Yeah, exactly.” Scooting up, Ted ejects the tape and flips it back to the other side, then sticks it back in. He leans back against the seat as the sounds of Iron Maiden’s “Running Free” fill the car, and Bill starts to tap his hands on the steering wheel again.

Feeling his sense of peace return, Ted fixes his eyes back on the road and then tilts his head back even further, closing his eyes as he lets the music and Bill’s singing along under his breath lull him back into a doze.

After a couple of hours, Bill nudges him awake, and they switch out so Ted’s the one that gets them to the Oregon state border. Bill falls asleep in the passenger seat, then, and Ted’s the one that gets to keep himself awake listening to music - but driving always takes up just enough focus that Ted can get totally lost in it. The miles fall away behind them while Ted jams out, keeping a careful eye on his speed and the mostly deserted highway.

He pulls over at the first rest stop in Oregon, which is a Welcome Center that’s pretty closed up, because it’s somewhere between the middle of the night and the earliest part of the morning.

When he opens up the doors on the back of the van, Liz and Jo both stir and sit up, blinking at him. He just waves at them and leaves the doors open, letting them wake up fully before they have to do anything else.

He goes around to the side door, and when he opens it he finds Bill still snuffling quietly in his sleep, his hat all knocked sideways and nearly off his head. Ted wishes for a moment he knew where his camera was, because he and Liz both brought one for the trip, planning to take pictures to commemorate everything. Bill’s face is all flushed and he looks sort of lovely in his sleep - not that Ted would ever say anything like that out loud, but he’s used to having the thought in passing by now.

Ted places a hand on Bill’s shoulder and shakes him gently, just a nudge that’s enough to make Bill snort awake and snap his head up, his hat falling off in the process. As he pulls his hand back, Ted still ends up leaning into Bill’s space where he’s almost doubled over giggling. “Dude, we’re switching out with the princesses.”

“Huh?” Bill mumbles, blinking as he turns to face Ted. His eyes are still heavy with sleep, but once they focus on Ted’s, he smiles softly. “Oh, hey, cool. Thanks, dude.”

Nodding, Ted steps back, avoiding saying anything back as his heart speeds up in his chest. He reaches out his hand, though, and helps Bill stand up as he hops out of the bus, stretching unsteadily.

They both take a minute to stretch out their legs, and Ted takes the rattling change in his pocket over to the vending machines to see what’s on offer. He gets a bottle of water, and then a pack of Skittles to split with Bill. Once everyone’s gotten a bathroom break, he and Bill pile into the back of the van, and Liz and Jo get settled in the front.

“You two all set?” Jo asks over her shoulder.

Bill and Ted look at each other, then turn to look at Jo, shrugging and nodding in unison. She smiles at them, and the van is off again.

The way they’ve organized everything in the back of the van allows for one futon which they’ve shoved against one side, and then the rest of the space is occupied by their drum kit and instruments and everything else they’ve got with them, including their luggage.

For now, Ted’s got his legs tucked up against his side while he sits close to Bill and they pass the bag of Skittles back and forth. When they slept earlier, they’d done so by sleeping with their heads at opposite ends of the futon, unable to resist playfully nudging each other for the first ten minutes or so until Ted finally fell asleep, dead to the world. Bill’s told him before - and really so has Captain Logan, though in less kind words - that he is a most heavy sleeper.

Still, for now, his knees nudge against Bill’s thigh, and they’re both settled comfortably upright on the futon, leaning back against the wall of the van where they’ve tacked up a tapestry to protect them from the cold side wall.

The only way for Ted to see the road from the back is either through the tiny window where he can watch the road behind them or to lean around Bill and crane his neck to still see the windshield. Instead, Ted just watches Bill for a moment and then closes his eyes again, not wanting to accidentally end up staring.

“Dude, maybe you should get some more sleep,” Bill tells him, nudging their shoulders together.

Ted blinks his eyes open, and finds that he’s tilted towards Bill on accident, putting their faces in far closer proximity than he’d meant to. He jerks back a little and shakes his head, barely keeping himself from dropping the Skittles. “Sorry.”

“You don’t gotta apologize, Ted, you were driving for a couple of hours - just, here-” He takes the bag of Skittles in hand then pours the rest out in his palm. He carefully gives Ted about half of them, and then scoots down to the other end of the futon. “I might be up for a little bit, you just lay down and I’ll make sure you don’t roll off again. Okay?”

There had been a most egregious incident while he and Bill were sleeping the first time, where Ted in taking the side closer to the edge had rolled off in his sleep and fallen into the instrument cases. Fortunately, he hadn’t put his elbow through a drum head or anything, but ‘not as bogus as it could have been’ still wasn’t a great experience. One of his knees still feels like it might bruise.

Ted nods, and settles onto his side, getting situated with his head right by Bill’s hip. “Thanks, dude,” he mutters as he curls up.

Actually - with Bill so close, Ted can feel the warmth of his body, right at the top of his head and the back of his neck. It could make him tense or hyper aware, but instead the proximity is relaxing. He feels safe, knowing Bill’s watching over him while he sleeps.

Letting his eyes fall shut, Ted munches lazily on the rest of the Skittles before he falls into another nap.

When he wakes up again, they’re in Washington. His fingers are still stained red from falling asleep with candy clutched in his hand, and he laughs a little as he shows it to Bill and then tries to lick it off.

Bill laughs with him, but rolls his eyes before he grabs a napkin from the dashboard and uses it to help Ted clean off his hand. They toss the crumpled napkin onto the floorboard and forget about it as they climb back into their seats and settle in for the last stretch of the drive to Seattle.

The tour starts there, then trails along the coast before swerving back up into Idaho and then meandering back down so they can play their last date in Los Angeles. Bill and Ted had both argued with their new manager, trying to get the last date in San Dimas, but since Los Angeles was only like 40 minutes away, the guys at the label said that was close enough, and LA would draw a bigger crowd and make for a better closing show.

In the end, playing in LA will probably be cooler, make them feel more like a real band and less like they’re playing Deacon’s junior high dance again - but Ted wonders who if anyone from San Dimas will actually make the 40 minute drive out to LA to come and see them. Maybe no one would have seen them in San Dimas either - but the Battle of the Bands did make them a pretty big deal.

Now, though, with it well behind them, some of that stuff hardly seems real. Ted knows it was, because Bill and Liz and Jo can all back it up, but he died and went to Heaven and Hell and his dad doesn’t even believe him. He’s learned well enough by now not to tell everyone they run into about everything they’ve done, and if he slips up Bill can always nudge him as a reminder, but he thought maybe at least his dad would listen. Maybe he even thought winning a game against Death and making his way back from Hell would be enough to make his dad impressed - it wasn’t, though, of course.

Death’s gone back to actual reaping now, anyways, because it turns out he’s pretty busy with that, and he doesn’t have time to just go on tour with the band. The label at first had been frustrated to lose something they considered to be part of the band’s “image” or whatever, but then they’d decided maybe have a guy dressed up as Death in the band had been a little too hardcore for Wyld Stallyns, anyways.

Ted had wanted to correct them, but Bill had nudged him, and they’d both just had to let it slide.

As they move along through Washington, Bill seems happy to drive the rest of the way to Seattle. Ted offers to swap with him, partly to get out of his own head, but Bill just shrugs him off. Instead, Ted relaxes back into his seat and watches out through the windows now that the sun is up and he can actually see.

Liz and Jo are awake in the back now, too, everyone feeling the returning thread of excitement as they approach the location of their very first show. They’ve got the music turned up again, and Ted lets himself get into it, using the excuse to headbang and drum on the dashboard to get out some of his pent-up nervous energy.

When they’re nearly there, the Pacific Ocean slides into view, and Ted is struck by how different it looks here. Obviously, he’s seen the ocean before. He and Bill have taken many a beach trip, and they even tried their hand at surfing once or twice - even though Ted has gotten distracted and totally wiped out every single time. He loves the ocean, and the sound of the waves - but here instead of bright and glittering blue in the sun, the waves are dark and choppy.

It’s still beautiful, and Ted cranes his neck around to keep watching through the window, looking past Bill as best he can, but it’s a strange kind of beauty. It makes his chest ache a little - like there’s something kind of sad about it, something haunting. He doesn’t really know how to say any of that, though, how to communicate it out loud without taking some time to process, so he just watches through the window and tries to make himself remember to take a picture before they leave. He doesn’t want to forget seeing this for the first time or exactly how it made him feel.

They arrive at their hotel room while it’s still the morning, because it took them basically a full day to drive all the way up from San Dimas. Everyone piles out of the van gratefully, and Bill and Jo go to get them checked into their rooms - the people at the label have graciously booked them two, and they’re sharing with Bill and Ted in one room and Liz and Jo in the other. If they were still engaged, the arrangements might be different, but after the Battle of the Bands Liz and Jo had decided a break might be the best thing for everyone, and Bill and Ted couldn’t really argue with that.

That whole thing with the evil robots had probably been most unsettling, and Bill and Ted are used to sharing a room anyways. It seems like the break is going to last for the whole tour - but once they all get home again, Ted isn’t really sure yet what’s going to happen.

Bill comes back with a key in hand, and he and Ted haul all the luggage out of the back to Liz and Jo’s room first, and then to their own. 

There’s only one bed - maybe because the label thought the couples would be sharing, or maybe it was just cheaper this way. Whatever it was, after the futon in the van, Ted is still so grateful for a full sized bed that he falls onto it face-first, groaning happily into the pillows as he presses his face against them.

“Dude, that bed is probably most odious,” Bill says.

“As if our van isn’t also, Bill,” Ted tells him, flipping onto his back with a grin.

“Yeah, but that’s our mess, dude, not somebody else’s. There’s probably like - cum all over those sheets.”

“Oh, grody!” Ted shouts, but he just grabs a pillow and tosses it at Bill, who laughs as he jumps out of the way.

Ted shuffles around on the bed and tries to push the comforter down without having to really touch it, kicking at it with his shoes.

On the other side of the room, Bill’s laughing even harder, doubled over and almost to the point of tears.

“You’re the worst, dude,” Ted tells him, but he’s giggling a little, finally sitting up to just pull his sleeves down over his hands and shove the comforter down off the end of the bed.

The sheets underneath don’t look too egregious, so Ted flops back onto them and kicks his shoes off, trying to aim them at Bill.

While he’s still laughing, Bill is able to dodge the first, but then the second one hits him in the thigh and he laughs even harder again as he staggers over to the bed and falls onto it next to Ted. Ted elbows him and nudges, trying to shove him off, but Bill just shoves back and they end up pressed together in the center of the bed, both of them having worn themselves out a little with their halfhearted roughhousing.

His shoulder is pressed tight against Bill’s, and their hands bump together gently in the scant space between them, their knuckles brushing. Ted, without much thought, hooks his pinky around Bill’s, and though there’s a momentary hitch in Bill’s breathing, he doesn’t pull away.

“This is gonna be most excellent, Bill,” Ted says, forcing himself to keep his eyes locked on the ceiling. There’s a crack with some water damage right over his head, but somehow even the dingy carpet in the room and the strange brown discoloration of age on the wallpaper feels homey. He and Bill are here, finally, and they’re gonna play their first real show tonight, for real people who bought tickets to see them - to see Wyld Stallyns. Feeling excitement rush through him, Ted wiggles a little on the bed, and laughs again, just one sharp sound. “Dude, I can’t wait for tomorrow night.”

“You’re gonna have to, dude,” Bill tells him, but he’s still a little breathless, and Ted can tell just from the sound of his voice that he’s still smiling. He wraps his pinky a little tighter around Ted’s squeezing gently. “Why don’t we go walk around and look at the sights? This is Kurt Cobain’s home turf, I bet there’s excellent record stores.”

Ted nods. “You’re totally right. We should see if the babes wanna come with us.”

“Yeah, we can get breakfast and then go for a walk and see what we can see. Maybe they have some of those little brochures in the lobby, we can figure out what to do that way.”

“Most definitely.” Ted bumps his knuckles against Bill’s one more time, then sits up and stretches out his back, arms lifted over his head.

After rummaging through his luggage for a cleaner shirt, Ted uses a washcloth to wipe off under his shirt and waits for Bill to do the same, and then they both go knock on Liz and Jo’s door.

Instead of piling back in the van, the hotel is close enough to the venue and everything else around it that they all decide they’d rather walk. Still a little hazy and stumbling after their long drive and their night spent sleeping in the van, they all four wander towards downtown on the hunt for food, and manage to find an IHOP.

He and Bill do the same thing they always do and order each other’s favorite pancakes so they can steal bites from each other’s plates.

Once they’ve all had soda and sugar and actual food, it’s clear all four of them feel more like themselves. While the IHOP hadn’t had any brochures, their waitress had offered them some most helpful advice about some of the best things to do with all their spare time in the city. While later they might take a boat tour to go whale watching or take a trip to the top of the Space Needle, the first place they set their sights on is downtown, searching for record stores.

Though the first one is tiny, with narrow spaces between the crates, the whole store tucked away in a basement, it’s not even the only one they find. There are several truly excellent stores, all within a matter of blocks. The four of them spend their whole afternoon digging through musty crates of vinyl, Bill and Ted getting excited about random finds they don’t yet own, and Liz and Jo listening with smiles on their faces before they go back to looking at the cassettes, clearly trying to develop their own collection of music for the van.

Before they decide to try and do anything else, they stop by the venue just to talk to the crew there and make sure everything’s all set up for the show. Since they don’t have their own lights yet or a lot of sound equipment, they’ll be working with whatever the venue has, but fortunately the label’s already got a lot of that worked out for them. They don’t really see much of the inside of the venue yet, but they get to go in the green room and Bill asks some questions about the stuff for their instruments, and Liz and Jo make sure there’ll be space for everyone.

After their time at the venue, though, they’re all feeling tired, stumbling and sleepy again, so instead of going out for a real dinner or trying to see anything else, they stop at a convenience store and grab a bunch of snacks to take back to the room.

Liz and Jo tell them goodnight, waving them off, and Bill and Ted head back to their dingy little room, turn on the TV, and settle on the bed with their candy and chips. It almost feels like they’re back in Bill’s bed for a childhood sleepover, only the bed seems a lot smaller now.

There’s enough space for both of them, fortunately, but only just. If Ted shifts his leg, his knee bumps into Bill’s, and eventually he gives up and just leaves their legs nudged up against each other. Bill doesn’t seem to mind.

“I can’t believe we’re in Seattle, dude,” Ted says, still just processing the day. The curtain at the front of their little room is closed, so Ted couldn’t see the ocean from here no matter how hard he tried, but he’s still thinking about that first glimpse. His mind is racing, too, about being so far from home without his or Bill’s dad hovering over them, and about the fact that tomorrow before the show they can kind of do whatever they want.

“Me neither, dude. This is, like, one of the most excellent cities for music in the world, and now we get to start our tour here.”

Ted nods, then flops back against the pillows to stare at the ceiling, resisting the urge to do a little wiggle just to get out all the excitement again. “I know there’s no way but - so many people live in Seattle, dude, that could come to our show. And even if they don’t, the venue we’re playing looks most excellent, much bigger than any of Deacon’s dances or birthday parties.” Ted turns a little, messing up his hair as he twists around to try and look up at Bill’s face. “It might even be bigger than the Battle of the Bands place, dude. And didn’t the dudes at the label say it was sold out?”

“Like _sold out_ sold out?” Bill asks, his brow furrowing.

“I think so,” Ted tells him shrugging. The little crinkle in between Bill’s brows sticks there, though - and Ted knows that usually isn’t a good sign. Quickly, he props himself back up on his elbows, trying to sit up enough to get a better look at Bill’s face. “What is it, Bill?”

Bill shakes his head, takes off his hat and ruffles his hair, like he’s trying to shake something off. “It’s nothing, dude. Just - that’s a lot of people. If you’re right and it’s bigger than the auditorium, it’ll be the biggest show we ever played.”

“That’s kind of the point, isn’t it?” Ted says, but he can see the way it makes Bill’s shoulders tense up. He sits up even further and nudges his shoulder against Bill’s, trying to knock them loose again. “Bill, dude. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Bill insists, shaking his head again.

Ted knows it’s something, though - and he’s starting to gather that Bill might be nervous. Not much makes Bill nervous. It never has. Ted’s usually the one of them backing off, struggling to find his words, trying to avoid things. Bill doesn’t get nervous much, but Ted has seen it happen, and he knows what it looks like. He knows, too, that Bill only gets all tense like this when he’s embarrassed - and he doesn’t like being nervous, and he doesn’t want Ted to know, that much is obvious. For all that Ted’s not good at paying attention in school or sometimes at work, he’s really good at paying attention to Bill.

The only way he really knows to help, though, is to distract Bill. If he can stop thinking about the show, he’ll probably stop being nervous, and then Ted can just keep him distracted tomorrow - somehow. He’ll have to figure it out later.

For now, Ted grabs a bag of candy and pours some in his hand and then turns on the bed to face Bill. “Dude, catch!”

Bill turns, blinking, and Ted tosses the candy and hits him right in the nose, because Bill totally wasn’t ready yet.

Ted breaks into laughter, doubling over and leaning hard on his own crossed legs while Bill shoves at him.

“Dude, I wasn’t ready!” Bill tells him. “You’re such a dick, Ted.” 

As Ted keeps laughing, though, Bill breaks and starts laughing with him.

“C’mon, c’mon, go again.”

When Ted catches his breath, he sits up, and carefully aims to toss the candy into Bill’s open mouth. With how close they still are, Ted’s knee pressed against Bill’s thigh, practically on top of it, Bill catches it first try and then grins at him.

Ted grins back, relieved to find that his plan totally worked - but also just happy to see Bill smiling.

They stay up for a while longer, joking around and watching old reruns on the tiny motel TV - then they both take a shower so they’re slightly less odious before they tumble into bed in their pajamas. It’s early for either of them to go to bed, and if they were home they’d probably still be up listening to records or messing around on their guitars, but the road trip is really starting to catch up with them now that it’s dark out.

The curtains are thick enough that almost no light filters in, so the room is totally dark when Ted curls up on his side, facing Bill. Squinting in the dark, he can make out the outline of Bill’s shape, but more than that, he can feel him close under the covers, just close enough to brush if Ted reached out. Instead, he curls his fingers into his palm, resisting.

“This is just like when we used to have sleepovers at my place before my dad got that air mattress,” Bill whispers.

Ted nods, and chuckles quietly, matching Bill’s quiet tone for no particular reason. “It is most similar.”

“Like that time we tried to stay up all night coming up with band names because we couldn’t sleep til we found the right one.”

“You did all those logos for the other ones, and by the time we came up with Wyld Stallyns and spelled it the right way, we could already see the sun through the window.” Ted giggles and presses his face into the pillow. “Then the next day we fell asleep in the car before your dad even got us all the way to Waterloops to drop us off so he just took us back home.”

Bill’s knuckles brush against his in the center of the bed, and Ted is only halfway sure it’s intentional. “Wasn’t your dad most heinous when we brought you home late?”

As much as he can all curled up, Ted shrugs. “Yeah, but I’m used to it. Anyways, it was worth it, dude.” He knocks his knuckles against Bill’s and then pulls his hand back again. “We might not even be here if it wasn’t for that. And being here means my dad was wrong cause he always said all the stuff we did for the band wouldn’t amount to anything, but like - here we are, dude!”

“Here we are,” Bill says, and he wraps his pinky around Ted’s again.

Ted grins into the pillow, but he doesn’t look over at Bill, embarrassed by the idea of making eye contact right now with their faces so close.

“We gotta get some sleep, dude,” Bill mumbles after a moment, his voice starting to sound rough with exhaustion.

“Yeah, definitely. Night, Bill.”

“Night, Ted.” After wiggling his fingers against Ted’s, Bill pulls his hand back, and they both try to keep to their own side of the bed as they restlessly settle in to sleep.

When Ted wakes up in the morning, the bed is still warm but Bill is over by the mirror, brushing his teeth. His curls are still messy, and he’s scratching at his hip where his shirt has ridden up. Ted watches him for a moment, still curled on his side, blinking the sleep from his own eyes, enjoying a chance to just watch without Bill looking back at him.

After Bill’s rinsed his mouth out in the sink, Ted sits up and stretches, arms over his head, resigning himself to being awake. The clock on the little end table says that it’s still only 11 in the morning, which means that they’ve got hours before they’ve got to be at the venue for load in and soundcheck.

When he stands up, he gives Bill a little wave as he walks up beside him at the sink and picks up his own toothbrush. Just like he always has whenever they’ve needed to share the bathroom, Ted stands on his left so their elbows don’t bump while they both try to brush their teeth. Suddenly, though, the old habit feels strange after all the closeness over the past couple of days. More than usual, Ted itches to reach out and touch - but he knows it might be weird again now, now maybe the rules are back to normal, so he focuses on brushing his teeth carefully and trying to shake off the haze of the long sleep.

Once Bill is awake enough to start grumbling, they both get dressed and go to check on Liz and Jo, and they all end up going for breakfast at the same IHOP they went to the day before. It’s convenience more than anything that drives them there with all of them still half-asleep and already hungry.

With the time they’ve got left before the show, they go first to the Sound to hop on a whale-watching tour. Ted actually remembers his camera, too, keeping it shoved in the pocket of his hoodie where he can keep a hand on it. 

The day is cloudy, but not rainy, so the ocean has the same look as it did when they were driving in the day before - dark and choppy under the gray sky. The sea isn’t too rough under the boat, though, and the way the boat rocks is ultimately sort of soothing as Ted leans with it and tips against Bill’s side, just a little.

They’re out on the water for a while, but they don’t see any whales - Bill says at one point that he saw the water shift like there might be something under it, but by the time Ted looks, he can’t see anything. He gets pictures of the water, though, and of Liz and Jo laughing on the other side of the boat - and one of Bill, his profile as he looks into the water, his brow all furrowed and his nose scrunched up, the water all stretched out behind him. Ted won’t know til it’s developed, obviously, but he thinks it might be his favorite picture he’s ever taken.

After they’re back on dry land, they all agree they have to go to the top of the Space Needle while they’re still in town. Fortunately Ted’s never been afraid of heights, because the view from the top would be most unsettling if he was. Instead, he leans out against the railing, fascinated by how small everything looks from so high up. He’s had similar thoughts the few times he was in a plane and got a glimpse from the window, but being able to stare like this is different. He can barely even see the people, and all the cars look like toys. It would be enough to make anyone feel most insignificant. Ted finds a kind of comfort in it, though. All those tiny people have their own lives and homes, listen to their own music, and still there’s a whole collection of them that wanna see him and Bill play later tonight. There’s so much of the world, and so much Ted hasn’t seen, but now here he is, at the beginning of the rest of his life.

He settles back onto his feet after leaning over the railing and grins over at Bill, and Bill grins right back at him as they both air guitar.

It turns out, though, that since the princesses have never been this high up, they both do find it most unsettling. He and Bill walk them back to the elevator and try to explain to them that the whole thing is totally safe, even though neither of them really know enough about architecture to be actually helpful.

Getting back on the ground is a lot more useful than either his or Bill’s attempts to comfort them, especially since there’s information back in the lobby about how the Needle was built. The princesses seem able to make enough sense of it to be impressed, and they’re more steady again after that.

After grabbing food again, they all just decide to head to the venue a little early and take advantage of any extra time to rehearse for the show. Ted can feel that nervous energy building up again, buzzing right beneath his breastbone as they walk back to the venue and he has to walk faster, swing his arms, shake his hands just so he’s not getting too keyed up.

Bill, too, is starting to look a little nervous again - but Ted feels certain it’ll pass.

The venue’s stage, it turns out, stands at the front of a room that looks large while it’s empty, but not excessively so. It isn’t that intimidating to tune their guitars and jam to the barstools and sticky floors. The equipment provided by the venue beyond their own small amps and effects pedals is surprisingly choice, and Ted appreciates the sound as he steps up to test a mic and plays a short riff on his guitar. The acoustics in the space are good - certainly much better than the San Dimas middle school auditorium.

After everyone has checked on their own, they do a short run through of the first handful of songs on the setlist, and they all make sure they’ve agreed on what they’ll actually be playing before they write out the list for the night to stick it on the stage.

It’s mostly just stuff off their new album, stuff the label wants them to make sure they play, but they get to throw in a few covers - and their encore is their first real song, the song they used to win the Battle of the Bands, the one which Ted is still the most proud of and the most excited to play.

Everyone seems more comfortable after they spend soundcheck goofing off. They go to the green room afterwards, and Liz and Jo put together their outfits and get to work on their stage makeup. In spite of their fancy getups for the Battle of the Bands, Ted doesn’t really have a lot of stuff that he particularly got to wear onstage. He usually just wears his smiley vest over some kind of shirt or hoodie and a pair of ripped up jeans, and Bill usually just sticks with a flannel unless he gets too hot.

The princesses keep talking about finding them better stage looks, but it just hasn’t happened yet.

Tonight, though, even as Ted throws on his t-shirt and vest, he finds that Bill’s actually wearing an old Motorhead t-shirt he cropped in high school - even though he’s sort of tugging at it like he’s feeling uncertain.

“Dude, excellent stage look!” Ted tells him, nudging their shoulders together.

Bill turns to him and grins. “You think so, dude?”

“Yeah! Plus it reminds me of what you wore when we did our history presentation, dude, that’s gotta be lucky.”

“We can probably use all the luck we can get,” Bill mutters, even though he’s still chuckling a little, clearly trying to play it off as a joke.

“Don’t need luck when we got talent.” Ted grins. He knows there are still way better bands than Wyld Stallyns - and it’s still tough for him to believe that somehow he and Bill are supposed to change the world with just their music - but he knows they can actually play now, and that they won the Battle of the Bands because they were really genuinely good. It’s what carries him through whenever he still gets frustrated not nailing the sound he wants on the first try or when he struggles to find the right words for a song. Maybe they’re not Eddie Van Halen - but nobody can really be Eddie Van Halen except for him, and they’re still doing pretty well.

Ted’s claim is at least enough to make Bill laugh again, and they both air guitar in excitement.

While they’re still getting ready, the opening band arrives. They’re local guys from Seattle, some band the label hooked them up with. They all seem friendly enough, though, and when they sound check they don’t totally suck, so Ted’s happy with them.

With soundcheck and all the introductions out of the way, though, they start letting people into the venue - and even just from the time the doors open, it’s not a small group of people. Not everyone’s there before the opening band even starts, of course, but some people are. It’s enough people to crowd around the stage, to take up all the barstools at the back, and to hover in the space in between. Nearly half of the room is already full when Ted peeks out from the side of the stage - and some of them even have on homemade Wyld Stallyns shirts, which is the craziest thing Ted’s ever seen.

He turns, though, to look at Bill with excitement - and Bill staring, wide-eyed, his mouth hanging open a little, looking totally frozen.

“Dude?” Ted whispers, nudging him in the shoulder.

Bill shakes himself and locks eyes with Ted and frowns. “What?”

He knows from last night that if he asks, Bill will only say he isn’t nervous. “Let’s get backstage again so people don’t see us before it’s time to play, right? We gotta keep up the suspense.”

Nodding, Bill smiles, though it doesn’t look totally genuine. “You’re right, dude.”

Even once they can’t see the crowd, though, especially once the opening band’s gone on and they can still hear from the green room, Bill only gets more and more tense. He can’t seem to sit still on the couch, and he keeps pacing around the room or picking at the holes in his jeans, and Ted isn’t really sure what to do.

Finally, once Bill sits down next to him again, Ted places his hand on top of Bill’s, trying to keep him from tearing more threads out of the denim. “Dude,” he says softly.

That stops Bill’s hand at least, and he turns, looking at Ted, his eyes still wide. Bill swallows, and he ducks his head in close to Ted’s. “I’m kind of freaking out, dude,” he whispers, just loud enough for Ted to hear. “I just - when we played Battle of the Bands there was so much other stuff to worry about but it’s like - when I got up on the stage for our history presentation, there were so many people, and if I couldn’t get distracted doing something else or listening to you it’s just - so many people, Ted.”

“Can I help?” Ted asks, immediately. It’s practically instinct, but it’s the only thing he can say or even think about while Bill’s being genuine with him like this.

“Maybe?” Bill says, tangling his fingers with Ted’s. “Just - try to distract me, I guess? If you can tell I’m getting too caught up in it, you know.”

Ted nods, squeezing Bill’s hand. “Totally, dude. That was what I did last night and it worked, I bet I can do it on stage, too. I mean - I won’t have any candy or anything, but I bet I can keep you from paying too much attention to the crowd, that’s easy!”

As he smiles at Bill, Bill’s expression shifts - the furrow between his brows fading as his mouth falls open. He blinks - and there’s a kind of soft wonder in his expression that Ted’s never seen before. It makes him sort of flustered. “You did that on purpose?” Bill asks, quiet again.

“Well, yeah. You seemed kind of freaked about the show, I knew you’d never get any sleep like that, my most excellent friend.”

Bill smiles at him again, a flush spreading over his cheeks, and he tightens his grip on Ted’s hand. “Thanks, Ted.”

“No problem, dude.”

They’re still sitting there, hands clasped together, grinning at each other, when the audience starts to cheer the opening band off the stage, and Ted drops Bill’s hand quickly, feeling caught out somehow - even though in the moment it felt totally natural. 

He stands up, wipes his sweaty hands on his jeans, and then gives Bill another grin. “I guess that’s almost our cue, dude.”

“Guess so.” Bill nods and stands up, clearly trying to psych himself up. 

The two of them shuffle across the room to stand by Liz and Jo, and as the girls turn around, it’s clear they’re feeling the same way Ted still is, like nerves and excitement are warring in their stomachs. Everyone’s jittery and grinning through it - but they have a silly little pre show ritual, and it’s clear that none of them have forgotten.

It’s simple enough to just throw all their hands in the middle of the circle, wiggle their fingers together, and then air guitar - but still, it cheers everyone up again and puts most of them closer to excitement again than terror. Bill’s still looking tense - but as they both grab their guitars, Ted knocks their shoulders together and nods at him, just a little reminder, and Bill nods back.

Then the lights go down, and the crowd starts chanting, and it’s finally showtime.

Ted ends up being the last one onstage, because Liz and Jo go first to get settled behind their instruments, and then he nudges Bill out with a little nod so he can follow close behind.

Even in the packed little venue, the screams and chants are loud. He can’t see most of the audience’s faces for all the stage lights, but he can see enough to tell that the room really is full all the way to the walls, and everyone’s yelling, and everyone is there to see them. It’s overwhelming even for Ted.

He turns, though, and sees Bill staring, and leans over to tap Bill with his hand, just enough to get his attention. They lock eyes, and Bill’s shoulders relax, just a little.

“Ready, Bill?” Ted asks, quietly enough the mic won’t pick it up.

“Ready, Ted.” Bill answers with a nod.

And then they launch into their opening song, together.

Playing with Bill has always been most triumphant, and adding Liz and Jo to the band really had made it something special - but playing the opening solo with Bill in front of a screaming crowd, a crowd screaming for them - is transcendent beyond anything Ted has ever imagined. He thought small crowds had given him an idea of how it might feel, but everyone at the Battle of the Bands had only been pleasantly surprised, still sitting there in their Primus shirts. For the first time in his life, Ted feels like a rock star - like a real rock star.

He can see, though, as he watches Bill, that Bill looks out at the crowd and starts to get overwhelmed again, so Ted does the only thing he can think of and presses himself into Bill’s personal space, leaning their shoulders together as they play.

The physical touch seems to ground him, and Bill brings his focus back to his guitar, and his fretwork, and Ted.

As the concert goes on, Bill seems more and more able to get out of his own head and enjoy the moment, enjoy the feeling of having people actually sing along with their songs and know almost every single word. Any time he gets tense, though, or stares out at the crowd and his eyes go just a little too wide, Ted goes over to him, pressing close and distracting him however he can.

During their final song, while the crowd is chanting along with the chorus, Bill and Ted leaving their microphones and letting the crowd sing for them, Bill seems to get twitchy one last time, eyes flickering over the edge of the stage, like he’s trying to make out the faces in the crowd. Ted goes over, nudges Bill into place, and presses their backs together as they play out the final solo of the song.

Both of them have sweated through their shirts, and Ted can feel Bill’s skin sticking to his where Bill’s cropped hem meets the place where his own t-shirt has ridden up. Everything is warm and electric and he feels like his fingers practically fly over the frets, everything more muscle memory than deliberate intention. He doesn’t even need to see Bill to play in perfect harmony with him, to improvise on the solo to surprise the crowd - and the whole audience is screaming now, abandoning their repetition of the chorus just to shout wordlessly as Bill and Ted shred on their guitars and draw out the final notes the best way they can.

Even as Ted steps away, turning off the feedback from his effects pedal, he feels like the electricity in the room doesn’t fade, and he and Bill step up to the mic together for one final “We are - Wyld Stallyns!” with their fists raised triumphantly in the air.

The lights go down, the audience goes wild, and Bill and Ted throw their arms around each other and stumble backstage, handing off their guitars to the crew.

Before they can even strip out of their sweaty clothes, they turn to each other and leap into the air, Ted first, then Bill, for an excited hi five. Then, still laughing, still grinning, they air guitar, too, neither of them having the words to express how excellent they both feel.

“That was an excellent show, wasn’t it, boys?” Liz asks as she comes up behind them.

“Most transcendent!” They say together - then they turn to each other and laugh, and Liz and Jo both laugh with them.

“You both did splendidly. All that work really paid off,” Jo tells them, and she pats Ted’s shoulder and kisses Bill on the cheek as she passes by.

Liz gives Ted a kiss on the cheek, too, and then they’re both gone, probably off to the bathroom to clean off their stage makeup.

Ted looks down at his own clothes, then, and lifts his shirt enough to peel it from his skin. “We are most odious if we’re gonna go sign CDs and stuff, dude.”

“Yeah, we should change - but we’ll have to shower back at the hotel. I’m glad Portland is close enough we can stay another night.”

Nodding, Ted takes off his vest and tosses it on the couch. “Me, too.”

He and Bill both get changed back into what they wore to the venue without any other options really close at hand. Ted throws his vest back on top of his other shirt, even though he knows it’s a little grody, just because he likes the look of it. Then they both look at each other, shrug, and head out to the back of the venue to see if anyone’s stuck around.

As soon as they open the door, they’re met with a whole crowd of people and a wall of sound.

It’s not just that some people have stuck around - like practically half of the venue did. People with shirts from the merch booth slung over their shoulders, people with CDs in hand, people with their own homemade shirts, all there waiting, sweaty and smiling, clearly excited.

“Woah,” Ted says - and Bill says it with him.

Liz and Jo follow them out shortly, met with the same excited cries from the crowd at large - all while Bill and Ted are both still working their way around, trying to say hi and sign whatever people thrust at them and pose for pictures in front of disposable cameras. It’s most unprecedented.

Basically everyone is nice, though. A couple of people are a little pushy, or a little dismissive of Ted, clearly waiting for Bill or the babes, but no one’s openly mean, and Ted’s a little relieved. He knows there were dudes in high school into the same music as him and Bill that seemed to have a much different idea about how to act as a result.

Their fans, though - well they’re their fans, because Wyld Stallyns has actual fans now, and Ted can still hardly take it all in.

All four of them stay until the very last stragglers have come up to talk to them and wander away, and by then it’s way late and they’re all exhausted and hungry again. 

They grab some more snacks and head back to the rooms, and Ted ends up sprawled on the bed in just his jeans while he waits for Bill to get out of the shower, eating Doritos while he watches an old black and white rerun of some TV show his dad used to like. He knows that sometime after they get to Portland, he should probably call his dad to check in - but he’s not going to do it now, because it’s late and the hotel phone costs too much to use, and he just doesn’t want to.

Ted gets his turn at the shower, and wanders out damp but refreshed, warm and tired as he starts to feel the crash from the adrenaline high, and throws on a pair of pajama pants before he falls into the bed face-first. He keeps his arms pressed tight to his sides so he doesn’t get too much into Bill’s space, but Bill turns to him anyways and tugs on his arm.

“Mh?” Ted mumbles into the pillow.

“Thanks. For everything on stage tonight, dude.”

Smiling, Ted turns his face towards Bill with his eyes still closed. “‘S no problem, dude. I just like helping you out. Anyways, wanted you there in the moment with me, you know, not all lost in your head. Would have been most heinous if you couldn’t enjoy the show.”

“That was the best show ever, dude.”

“Best show ever _yet_ , dude.”

Bill laughs, and some part of him bumps against Ted’s shoulder again, warm and gentle pressure. “Good point. Just - can’t get over how totally transcendent it felt. We were all just on it, you know? It was a real show, and we didn’t have to cheat first with the booth or anything. That was us, and we did it, and the whole crowd loved it.”

“Think you’ll be less nervous now?”

“Maybe. Might still need you to distract me, though.”

“Well now I know how, it’s totally easy.” Ted blinks his eyes open to smile at Bill properly, if a little hazily, and he finds Bill’s face is right in front of his, inches away, just barely still on the other pillow.

Blinking, Bill smiles back at him, and his cheeks flush pink. “Still. Thanks, Ted.” He reaches into the space between them and takes Ted’s hand, lacing their fingers together.

Ted’s surprised, and he glances down at their hands, but he doesn’t pull back. Instead, still smiling, he lets his eyes fall shut again and relaxes into the pillows, right where he is. “Anytime, Bill.”

When Ted starts to doze, edging slowly into sleep, his fingers are still gently tangled with Bill’s, resting in the scant space between them on the bed.

**Author's Note:**

> and that's the first chapter everybody!!!! i'm gonna try to update this fic regularly-ish but i'm not gonna keep myself on a strict schedule. just know i have a full outline and process document and she is. coming along!!! the eight chapters are subject to change but klamsdf it's probably gonna a long-ish ride so strap in.
> 
> thank you for reading, i'd love to hear what you thought of this first chapter either here or on twitter @eddykaspbraks!
> 
> also!! reminder that bill and ted's road trip mix is a full playlist, which you can find [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4zh8cn0SJzNErqt6KYaGia?si=2p6Chag1Q_id1oFo-6Y-pg).


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